


Everyone Knows Goalies are Crazy

by ficanicbasket



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Derek is a grumpy defenseman, Fluff, Gen, Hockey, Not Quite Gen, Pack appears in mentions, Stiles is a spastic goalie, could be read as slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficanicbasket/pseuds/ficanicbasket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows goalies are crazy.  Everyone.  This new kid Stilinski might be the craziest of all the goalies Derek has ever met, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swing_set13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/gifts), [magneticwave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magneticwave/gifts).



> AND A WILD PLOT BUNNY APPEARS. This is at least partly inspired (and thus dedicated to) swing_set13, who is amazing and talented and a science nerd and a hockey fan. Similarly, magneticwave wrote a Derek/Stiles hockey fic, and I love her for it. I grew up on hockey, so this is what happens. Ron Hextall 4eva. (I was also a field hockey and lacrosse goalie, so I might know something about being crazy enough to get in front of really hard rubber traveling really, really fast.)

Everyone knows goalies are crazy. _Everyone_. What sort of person voluntarily plants themselves in front of hard pieces of rubber flying at 100 mph and _purposely puts themselves in the way of it_? Yeah, sure, there’s padding, but Derek has seen the bruises. This new kid might be the craziest of all the goalies he’s ever met, though—goalies are often intense, very particular about their pre-game rituals and working themselves into a furor – but this one is a flailing kaleidoscope of limbs spiraling around a torso. Derek has seen a bit of footage of him – Stiles Stilinski had been the back-up in Anaheim and gotten the occasional bit of ice time – so he knows Stilinski is a [Hasek butterfly-style goalie](http://proicehockey.about.com/library/weekly/aa062602a.htm). Hasek often did an impression of a beetle laying on its back, arms and legs flailing, but Derek’s beginning to wonder if Stilinski has a couple extra limbs stashed in his torso because they are seriously _everywhere_ all at once—especially knocking over Boyd’s Gatorade. There's now a permanently sticky patch in front of their lockers.  The reporters thus far seem bemused, but they’re decidedly interested in how Stiles Stilinski and defenseman Scott “My puppy eyes bring all the rink bunnies to the glass” McCall seem to be having an epic bro-fest in a bubble solid enough that even Assistant Coach Chris Argent’s steely gaze can’t pierce it. Their goalie, Danny, had torn a groin ligament, so Derek is resigned to have to deal with Stiles and his mental connection to Derek’s on-ice partner Scott for at least a few weeks.

Derek slowly gets used to Stiles. The kid is loud – jawing at anyone who gets over the blue line, taunting skating skills (“Hey man, I got these pads on and I think I could still lap you!”), taunting Jackson’s skating skills (“[Toooooooooooe piiiiiiiick!](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Cutting_Edge)”) – but he’s also pretty good. Scott occasionally got too into his head to look for good passing opportunities out of his zone, but Stiles’s communicative nature has led both Scott and Derek to being more aware of exactly what’s going on and built a solid back triangle. Derek will also admit to smirking more than a few times as Stiles's linguistic trickery and sarcasm manages to slip past yet another reporter.

It’s not just his mouth that is loud, of course. Management has a policy of players wearing suits on travel to look professional, but Stiles has taken this as a challenge. Stiles has somehow – eBay? Yard sales? His family’s moldering hidden fabric shame? – procured an amazing array of loudly colored suit jackets and ties. Lydia has been less than amused by this impudence, although Stiles’s proclamation of it being an homage to [Don](http://praxistheatre.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Don-Cherry-Pink-Suit.jpg) [Cherry ](https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcS9oioOCCfgkpXrdE56E_rOBAVjvNPsDGIFNmcSv3j1NiB6jQr-Xw)had gone over great in Canada, and after the lockout the NHL can use all the positive press it can get. (That red suit, complete with suit vest, was pretty good, he had to admit, but the jackets that look like he’d shaved a couch in the ‘70s just made Derek wish for sunglasses to avoid seeing the full impact.) It’s even helped in the social media, now that McCall makes sure to tweet the daily #StilesStyle outfit picture. Derek’s sister Laura has taken to keeping a count of how many times Derek is in the background of the picture and rating his glares.

Derek’s luck doesn’t improve in the short term. An injury has taken out Primeau, one of their other defenseman. His replacement is a kid who is – shockingly – even younger than Stilinski. (Derek still can’t believe Stiles and Scott are old enough to shotgun those beers, regardless of how practiced they are at it.) Finstock is reluctant to stick the n00b with the Glaring Creeper Eyes of Doom – Stiles contends that he should go for it and develop laser eyes so he could cut sticks in half -- and also reluctant to put him in with Hurricane Stilinski, so… Scott ends up telling Stiles with a “Sorry, bro” that he’ll be rooming with Derek for the next few weeks at least.

This, of course, is when Stiles’s first win happens, and Derek is mildly terrified of having to go to their room. He can handle the yelling and flailing on the ice and at training, but after post-game booze he just wants to harangue his family with demands to know when they’ll be coming to a game (usual answer: "When _aren't_ we coming to your game? Your Uncle Peter moved to Philadelphia just to be able to be there all the time... and you know how much he hates cheesesteaks!") and tease his sister with carefully cropped photos of Ryan Kessler shirtless and then sleep. It’s with great trepidation that he opens the door to his room, expecting to find Stiles dancing around in his underpants with sunglasses and a lurid tie on.

Derek isn’t disappointed. Well, he is and he isn’t. Jesus, the kid even _sleeps_ with enthusiasm. Stiles is sprawled face-first on the bed, limbs draped like a starfish, in his boxers. Derek can see some bruising from when that asshat Rafi Torres had cheap-shot his goaltender, he thinks with a certain growl and gritting of the teeth. There’s a single can of beer sitting on the nightstand, and a soft huffing as Stiles sleeps with abandon. Derek’s trying very hard to not think about how he’d just mentally referred to Stiles as “his” goalie, but for now he’s just going to enjoy sleeping in the same room with someone he respects… and he’ll think about what obnoxious thing to do to Stiles in the morning. He’s pretty sure he can at least get Stiles to flail off the bed and tangle himself in the comforter. But can he get him to tangle himself in the comforter and the sheets….?

Eh. At least they’re compatible sorts of crazy.


	2. The Team is Another Form of Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn more about how Stiles came to play ice hockey in Northern California and how Peter fits into all of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brother and my ex-husband had ADD, so the discussion of ADHD is based on their experiences. Please let me know if I've been inaccurate or disrespectful in any way. Please also note that there is mention of canonical characters deaths.
> 
> Thank you all for the lovely kudos and comments!

Stiles had heard plenty about Derek Hale before coming to Philadelphia (it’s pronounced Filla-elffia if you’re a local. If you’re a local, you also overuse the word “yo” but never use it in conjunction with the name “Adrian”.). He’s had a rep of being a good leader on the team, but he’s definitely less approachable by the press. Stiles is realizing the reports of the new guys on the beat being fed to Hale were all true. Hale is a bit like a Venus fly trap… all attractive and decent – if a bit spiny-looking – but put a foot wrong and snap! You’re being digested for lunch. This idiot, over-confident reporter is about to get snapped at in 3… 2… “So how does your uncle feel about the way you’re playing this year?” 

Derek’s uncle, Peter Hale, had been a good, approaching great, defenseman, somehow keeping all his teeth in that handsome face, until a drunk driver thought they could make a left in front of the car he, his wife, and his kids had been riding in. Peter suffered burns on a large portion of his arms and torso trying to free his family from the car that had been crushed against a pole on the opposite side of the intersection. He hadn’t returned to the league after that… Too many skin grafts and surgery, too much therapy to regain full range of motion and to really regain everything he’d need to be back at the same level. He’d probably still be a good workman, but the Hales all seem to put pride into doing their best, and Peter retired. Stiles has seen the elder Hale haunting the practices, and Stiles has seen Derek talking to his uncle, nodding along with a serious face and absorbing the comments. Peter had moved from Phoenix, where he’d been living, to Philadelphia when Derek had gotten picked up. He does really hate cheesesteaks, but moving away from the memories and finding something new seems to have been good for the man. Stiles has seen the kids from the hockey program for troubled youth Peter mentors appearing around the rink as well. Stiles also has been kept slightly away from those kids, because give him Mountain Dew and suddenly he is one of the kids again. 

Stiles also has the instantaneous reaction of wanting to get this assbutt away from Derek. Before he can really think about it, he’s across the locker room, shoulder-to-shoulder with Scott in front of Derek. Derek has been a surprisingly good roommate, only getting Stiles with the “shaving cream in the hand” trick the morning after he’d won his first game (Stiles, being extremely ticklish and having apparently passed out cold from exhaustion and nerves, had quite thoroughly smacked himself in the face, to the point of giving himself a black eye. The fans had a huge debate on Twitter over whether Hale had punched his new roomie. Derek was almost content to let them believe he had, if it meant they’d stay away from him.). Stiles and Scott seem to have a mental link since Moment 1, not even Day 1, Moment 1!, and they chatter brightly at the reporter with slightly fixed smiles as they carefully back him towards the locker room door. Derek's former defenseman pair Boyd steps in with the tiniest of placid smiles to back them up, and center Jackson – “Jerk-son” or “Jack-ass” if you’re Stiles – cheerfully opens the door with a bow and arm gesture and then closes it in the reporter’s face. Dude lives up to his jerk reputation when it comes to disliking not being the center of attention and taking suggestions from teammates with poor grace, but he will throw down in support of those teammates as well.

Stiles didn’t have any badass NHL players in his family. He didn’t even play hockey until high school. He started off with lacrosse as a kid and through junior high. The team already had a goalie with talent, so Stiles ended up a defenseman, and there was just too much going on on the field for Stiles to be able to concentrate, too much information and movement to try and process. It wasn’t until it was summer and he decided to join in a pick-up game of roller hockey that he saw the possibility of the new position. Of course, it was yet another sport his dad had to find money to pay for a shit-ton of equipment, but at least he could use the same helmet. Other bonuses: Not a school sport, so the reigning school douche was no longer trying to bruise Stiles just for funsies, and way less pressure to WIN WIN WIN because Beacon Hills was a lacrosse town. The arrangement was casual enough that Stiles ended up moving around all the positions according to whim, until someone suggested he try getting in the net.

ADHD was the super-extra bonus to puberty that neither Stiles nor his father had been prepared for. Some kids show signs of the disorder pre-puberty, but Stiles had enough wits to breeze through his homework, so the teachers saw it only as a bright kid getting bored. The passing of his mother at ten and then the hammer of puberty changed all this, and coping techniques just weren’t enough to cut it. Accordingly, he’d always avoided being in the net, because if he was going to get distracted by the shiny bouncing bunny out of the corner of his eye he just wanted the consequences to be an opponent getting by him – not the opponent’s goal getting by him. He got teased enough by some classmates for being allowed extra time on exams and being unable to control some of his impulsive behavior, so he wasn’t going to risk the entire team focusing on him. The pick-up league, though, was guys just out to have fun, and the shifting around meant someone almost always ended up being terrible in whatever new position they were trying out. Stiles discovered that being in the net meant he only had to concentrate on things coming at him – the action would converge on him, he learned how to tune out the noise of the crowd, he could control the flow of the game in his end of the ice by controlling the puck, and his quick reactions and unpredictability were actually a tremendous asset.

So Stiles gradually became the regular goalie for the pick-up league… and he eventually found, during the winter time, a rink nearby and started doing the ice version of hockey. Then he joined the high school team… then he joined traveling teams… and suddenly his dad was shelling out loads of money for jerseys, ice time, equipment, sticks, travel fees, summer camps,….. but he was smiling more broadly than he had in a while. His kid was more confident, doing better in school, not getting nearly so many disciplinary reports, life is pretty good, even if the expenses were necessitating a bit more beanies'n'weenies than normal. If Sheriff Stilinski had to do the night shift and couldn’t see one of his son’s games – hello, state champions junior year, what what – at least one member of the Sheriff’s office would be sitting in the stands, texting him with regular updates. Stiles had been a favorite of the office when he was young, then a worry to that same office during his grieving and acting out, now the station has a Stiles wall, filled with all the pictures McCall has been taking of his crazy outfits and liberally sprinkled with gap-toothed kid Stiles, awkward gangly teenage Stiles, got picked up by a minor league holy shit Stiles, look dad I'm a real boy IN THE NHL OH YEAHHHHHH Stiles. He and his dad had a number of tough years, but somehow they came out of it different people who still love each other very much. That the Sheriff put that wall directly across from his office door (and just down from the perp wall, thanks Dad, love the felons being nearby) gives Stiles a special little glow in his heart.

One story Stiles will never tell the press: A month after he’d gotten picked up by the minor league affiliate for the Edmonton Oilers, Stiles had finally felt reasonably secure that he might actually be allowed to stay for a while. He and his dad were both so used to constantly worrying about and watching out for the other that the separation was hard -- before, it'd been a couple weeks at a time for tournaments and such. There was some form of texting most days, even about the most random things. The surprise for his dad was when he received an envelope in the mail addressed to “The Most Awesome Dad Ever But Don’t Think I Don’t Know About the Krispy Kremes”, containing an itemized list of all the equipment and fees John had had to pay for Stiles’ hockey pursuits…. and check with “Installment #1” written in the memo line. Stiles fully intended to repay his dad for everything he'd given him, monetarily and otherwise. 

Derek Hale might still be a bit quiet and only opening up occasionally, but Stiles is totally down with letting his family live in some form of peace from the public and supporting them through the times, both good and bad. He cracks his knuckles and nods at Derek, who's still staring at his teammates with his mouth slightly open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, so, this was supposed to be something else, but it kept getting longer and longer, so I decided to chop it here and the rest will be up reasonably shortly, I hope? Next up: How Scott and Stiles became the ultimate bros and how Derek and Peter were horrified at the way they live.
> 
> Thank you all for the lovely kudos and comments! No, really, I never was one of those kids who did creative writing and had these fantastic stories and worlds spun in their head, so this is not something I'm used to doing, but your responses have been wonderful. I'm finally understanding why my writer friends shout at their own characters and talk about them as if they have minds of their own. I may or may not have shouted "But where is the plot here?!" at this often. I hope you enjoy it anyway. (And suggestions of where you'd like it to go or other fun ideas are welcomed, as is concrit, obvs.)

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to do more with this and there are more bunnies floating in my head, but I don't know if there's interest and really don't know if I have the skills.


End file.
